Maybe Hölderlin was pretending to be mad the whole time, I don’t know. What fascinates me is to see his catastrophe, at whatever level of consciousness he chose it, as a method extracted from translation, a method organized by the rage against cliché. After all what else is one’s own language but a gigantic cacophonous cliché. Nothing has not been said before.
The author suggests that Holderlin was possibly pretending to be crazy the whole time, just to deviate from the norm and try to bring a new perspective to the work since anything other than that would seem a repetition of past analysis.